Demanding All Of You Page 22

  “We should ask Alex to eat breakfast with us,” Oliver said.

  I smiled. “She’s probably at home in bed.”

  “I bet she would like to eat breakfast,” he insisted.

  I chuckled. “Maybe another time.”

  “I like Alex,” he declared.

  “I know you do.”

  “I wish she could be with us all the time.”

  I nodded. “That would be nice,” I agreed.

  Our meals were delivered. I couldn’t help but think about what he had said. It terrified me to think of him becoming really attached to her. I didn’t know if I could trust her not to hurt him. I didn’t know if I could trust me not to do something that would cause her to dump us both. Dating was a hell of a lot more difficult with a kid to think about. It wasn’t just my heart that could get broken. I had to think of his as well.

  “It’s a nice day out,” I commented. “Do you want to go fishing?”

  He looked at me, wrinkling his nose. “With worms?”

  I laughed. “That’s the usual bait, but we could use marshmallows if you’d like.”

  “Can Alex come with us?”

  I winced. It was exactly what I didn’t want. I wanted to be with her, which was what I didn’t want. It made no sense. I knew it, but it was my own mixed-up head. I wanted to be with her all the time, which scared the hell out of me. I was falling hard and I hadn’t even made up my mind about my future.

  “We can call and see if she would like to, but she probably has plans,” I said. I felt like there was an inner tug of war happening. I wanted to hang out with her and I didn’t.

  “Call her!” he ordered.

  “After we’re done eating,” I promised.

  He seemed satisfied with my answer and dug into his pancakes. I was ravenous as well and tucked into my pancakes and eggs like a man that hadn’t eaten in a week. On the way back to the house, I called Alex and invited her to go fishing. She promptly accepted the invitation.

  “She’ll meet us at the house,” I told Oliver, who had been very impatiently waiting to hear her answer.

  “Yeah!” he said, clapping his hands.

  “I need to dig out the fishing gear from the barn. I saw it in there, but I have no idea what kind of shape it’s in.”

  Once home, Oliver went inside to pack us a lunch for our fishing trip. I was still stuffed from breakfast, but he needed something to do, and it would keep him occupied while I dug through the fishing gear that was probably older than I was.

  I pulled out what I could find. I was not impressed. I found my old tackle box from twenty years ago and carried it outside to rummage through it. “Gross,” I muttered, finding an old carton of what had been worms at one point.

  I was busy trying to untangle fishing line without getting a hook caught in my thumb when Oliver came outside to see what I was doing. “What’s that?” he asked, pointing to an old pack of hooks that were yellowed and faded.

  “Hooks. For the poles.”

  He scrunched up his nose, taking in the assortment of what could only be seen as garbage. “How old is that?”

  I shrugged. “I don’t know, probably fifty years or so. Most of this is Grandpa’s. I used to use it, but I’m not sure about this reel.”

  He let out a big sigh. “How are we going to fish?”

  “It’ll work.”

  He had never been fishing. It was something we had talked about quite a bit in the last few weeks. I would hate to get him out to the lake only to find out the reels were broken or the poles were fragile. It wasn’t like I could run down to the local Dick’s and pick up new poles. New poles would require a trip to town. That would be two hours at least and the best part of the day.

  I’d take my chances with the old poles. I heard the sound of a truck and knew Alex was close.

  “Alex!” Oliver shouted.

  “Stay put until her truck is parked,” I warned.

  He was bouncing and wiggling, waiting for her to stop the truck and get out. When she did, he rushed toward her. He once again greeted her with the usual exuberant hug.

  “What do we have going on here?” she asked, her hands on her hips as she surveyed the mess spread out before me.

  “This would be my grandfather’s fishing gear,” I told her.

  “It’s really old,” Oliver chimed in.

  “Is that the stuff that was in that back corner of the barn?” she asked.

  “It is.”

  “Oh my god. I thought that was antique.”

  I rolled my eyes. “It isn’t that old.”

  “I think it is,” she argued. “Luckily for you, I figured you city slickers wouldn’t have the right gear, so I brought some along.”

  “You brought fishing poles?” I asked.

  She grinned. “Yes.”

  I got to my feet. “Thank god, because these things are well past their prime.”

  I wasn’t at all insulted that she had thought to bring along fishing gear. She had saved the day. It was a little embarrassing to be so ill-equipped.

  “Dad’s poles are old and broken,” Oliver said.

  “They’re not broken,” I retorted.

  “They are old,” he insisted.

  “They still work,” I told him.

  Alex laughed. “Oliver, it isn’t about the pole. It’s about how you use the pole.”

  I looked at her, raising one eyebrow. She grinned that sexy smile that made me think of sex. Her comment was full of innuendo. That was a good sign.

  “See?” I teased Oliver.

  He picked up one of the poles. “Yeah, Dad, it isn’t about the pole. It’s how you use the pole.”

  I groaned. “Thanks for that,” I mumbled.

  Alex was trying to hide her laugh.

  I shook my head. “Are we ready?”

  “Your poles are in the back of my truck,” she said with a snicker.

  Oliver was already running ahead. I stopped in front of her and turned to face her. “You’re bad.”

  She grinned. “Not at all.”

  “Not the pole? Are you insinuating you have a problem with my pole?”

  Her eyes drifted down my body. “I like your pole just fine.”

  “You’re killing me here,” I whispered.

  She stepped close to me, putting a hand on my chest and letting it slide down to my stomach where it stopped. “What’s the matter?” she breathed.

  “I’m rock hard and I have to go get in that truck with my son in the backseat. I want to slam you up against the hood of your truck. I want to fuck you on the hood, in the bed, and then again in my bedroom.”

  I watched her eyes glaze over. Her lips parted and I could hear the change in her breathing. I had gotten to her. I watched her swallow, her eyes staring at my lips.

  “Are you wet?” I whispered in a voice so low, I barely heard myself speak.

  “Stop,” she breathed.

  “If I’m hard, you’re wet. Are you thinking about me inside you?”

  She closed her eyes and took a step back. “We better get going.”

  I nodded once. “Can you get him in the truck? His booster seat is in my car.”

  She laughed. “What’s the matter, big guy? Having a little trouble walking?”

  “We could run inside the house for a minute,” I suggested. “That’s all I need.”

  She was still laughing as she walked away. I glanced over my shoulder, watching her get the car seat. I took a few deep breaths, letting them out slowly as I demanded my cock to relax. Once things relaxed, I went to the truck to help get Oliver situated.

  Alex got into the driver’s seat and looked over at me. “Feeling better?” she teased.

  “I’m feeling a little blue,” I replied.

  She burst into giggles. “I hope you feel better soon.”

  “I hope I do as well,” I muttered.

  She put the truck in reverse, and off we went. I had to adjust myself a couple of times. Being close to her was not making it easy for
my libido to slow. I could smell her. Maybe it was pheromones. Maybe it was her own arousal. I didn’t know, but it was making sitting very uncomfortable.

  Chapter 36

  Alex

  Oliver meandered out onto the dock, Damion’s watchful eye on him. The fishing hadn’t been quite as exciting as Oliver had obviously thought it was going to be. He’d grown bored after thirty minutes and began throwing rocks into the lake. That wasn’t exactly conducive to actual fishing.

  “He’s a really good boy,” I commented.

  “Yes, he is.”

  “I guess the fishing thing isn’t for him.”

  He laughed. “It’s probably going to be one of those things that he has to warm up to.”

  Oliver sat down on the dock, swinging his legs back and forth. Where he was sitting was over the dry land. “He needs more stimulation. He’s smart.”

  Damion nodded. “Yes. He loves constant input. He likes to read and watch television at the same time. Fishing is probably something he will appreciate when he gets older and needs to shut off his brain.”

  “I agree. Fishing is one of those things that you can do and not think about it. Then again, that can be a bad thing because your brain thinks about everything else.”

  “You are the first woman in his life,” he said.

  “What?” I asked, turning to look at him.

  “I mean he had female babysitters and a nanny but never like this.”

  “You mean you’ve never dated a woman that you’ve brought home?” I questioned.

  He blew out a breath. “No.”

  I let that kind of digest, mulling over what it meant. I knew I wasn’t the prettiest woman in the world. I wasn’t cultured or refined. When I looked at him, I saw a man that went to Broadway shows and ate at nice restaurants. I saw him as the kind of man that would be with a pretty blonde woman, with a shapely body and perfect hair and nails. She’d have a degree in something or be a model. No, she’d be born into a rich family and do nothing but pamper herself all day.

  “Why not?” I asked the question instead of assuming things.

  “I don’t know. I guess I felt like my job kept me away so much, I didn’t dare date anyone. It would just take more time away from him. I hated that I worked so much. Then he started school and I told myself it was normal to be away from him all day. Unfortunately, I often worked evenings. I neglected him. I couldn’t bring myself to neglect him further by dumping him on a babysitter on a Friday night while I went out with a woman.”

  “He certainly doesn’t seem like he’s been neglected,” I said, watching Oliver as he bobbed his head, singing a song to himself.

  He smiled. “I think that’s why he’s so smart.”

  “Why is that?” I asked curiously.

  “Because he had to entertain himself.”

  I laughed. “I don’t think that’s a bad thing. He’s a good kid. He knows you love him. He adores you. I think you are just like every other parent out there. You’re worried you’re not doing enough. That you aren’t good enough. I think Oliver is a testament to the fact you are doing enough.”

  “Thank you. That means a lot.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  “I never realized how important it was for him to have a female influence in his life,” he said.

  “I think in a perfect world, every kid would have two loving parents, but this is the real world, and few of us get that.”

  He was watching his son. “Maybe, but I’ve realized I’m a man. I think like a man. I act like a man. I parent like a man.”

  I threw my head back and laughed. “No shit. I would have never guessed.”

  He grinned, turning to look at me from his spot on a flat rock. “I meant, I can be—I don’t know—too masculine. Like he doesn’t get that soft touch that all kids need. I am a product of my upbringing. I don’t remember my mom. I barely remember my father. I just remember my grandfather. He was a tough guy. I was taught not to show weakness and to always be strong. I don’t want Oliver to be a pansy, but I don’t want him to think the tough guy thing is the way to go. He’s very intellectual. I don’t see him being the star quarterback.”

  I had to laugh at that. “He’s going to be a big kid. It could happen.”

  He gave me a look. “I don’t think so and that’s okay. I like who he is. I like the person he is shaping up to be. I just feel like I might be too hard on him.”

  I scoffed. “Trust me, you are not hard on him. You say he’s lacking that soft touch, but I don’t think that’s entirely true. You are the most vigilant mother I’ve ever seen.”

  He laughed. “Ha. Ha. Very funny.”

  “I think you’re overthinking this whole thing. You’ve made some changes in your life and now you get to spend a lot more time with him. That’s what you want, right?”

  He looked away from me, pulling his sunglasses over his eyes. I didn’t think that was a good sign. It made me wonder what he was hiding.

  “It is what I want,” he answered. “I want to spend more time with him. I want to be there after school and I want to have my weekends free.”

  The giant but was between us. There was something he wasn’t saying. I watched Oliver pick up the fishing pole he had carried out on the dock. I smiled, watching him fumble a little as he tossed out the line before settling in. He was the kind of kid that was content to be by himself. He didn’t need to run and play or have constant interaction. He was content just hanging out with himself. I turned to look at Damion, who was still watching his son. I sensed he had a lot on his mind. I couldn’t tell by looking at him with those glasses shielding his eyes, but I had a feeling his gaze was on the water and not really his son. He was lost in thought. It was easy to do.

  “What’s your plan for the future?” I asked, just coming out with what was on my mind.

  He turned his head, his mouth quirked at the corners. “The future? Like tomorrow? Like what do I want to be when I grow up?”

  I picked up a weed and threw it at him. “No, ass. Do you think this little town is enough for you?”

  He shrugged a shoulder, his grin fading. “I don’t know.”

  “You don’t know if you’re staying?” I asked.

  “I don’t know. I like the idea, but I’m not sure this could be it for me. I like that Oliver’s happy. That makes me happy, but what if he isn’t happy? What if the novelty of being in a tiny town wears off? What if he wants to go to a school that caters to his intellectual level? There are too many variables in play for me to make a firm decision just now.”

  “That’s a lot of what-ifs,” I said, trying to hide my frustration.

  I wasn’t necessarily frustrated with him, but I was irritated that he didn’t know if he was going to stick around. I was falling for him and there was a good chance he could be gone in a few months. It was hard not to think he was using me. He was passing time with me. I looked away, pulling the emotions back in check.

  That kind of thinking was only going to piss me off and hurt me. It would be my burden to carry. I could choose to enjoy what we had while it lasted, or end it. The key was to remember it would end. I would enjoy the ride while it lasted.

  “Things are just kind of confusing right now,” he said. “I love it here. It is my home. At least, I think it is. I just keep wondering if it’s the right choice. Oliver would have so many more opportunities in the city. I mean, honestly, what are the chances of him getting into an Ivy League school if he graduates from here?”

  I guffawed. It was my first reaction. I slapped my hand over my mouth when he turned to me and scowled. “I’m sorry, but I think you are getting way ahead of yourself. What if he wants to be a farmer? I guarantee you he won’t need a degree from Yale.”

  He scrunched up his nose. “He’s not going to be a farmer.”

  I raised my brows. “You say it like that would be a terrible job for him.”

  “He’s too smart to be a farmer.”

  “Excuse me?” I said, sitting forwa
rd. I could feel my blood boiling a little. “I’ve met some very smart people—all of them farmers. How many Yale graduates can grow their own food? How many can sustain themselves should there be some horrible calamity? I’ll tell you how many. None. A degree does not equal brain.”

  He pushed his sunglasses up, a slow grin spreading across his mouth. “Do you know how sexy you are when you’re pissed?”

  I frowned. “Don’t change the subject.”

  He got up from the rock and walked to me, pulling me up to a standing position. He turned, putting his back to Oliver before kissing me.

  “What was that for?” I snapped, still fuming.

  “Because you are too damn cute to resist. I know farmers are just as smart as anyone else. I only said the last bit to get a rise out of you. I like to see your cheeks stained red.”

  “You don’t want him to go to Yale?” I asked.

  He shrugged. “If that’s what he wants to do, so be it.”

  “I should kick your ass,” I told him.

  He winked. “Maybe later.”

  “Dad!” Oliver shouted, stopping any retort I could have come up with.

  The man was incorrigible. One second, I wanted to choke him, and the next, I wanted to climb him and ride him like a woman in the rodeo.

  Damion was already on the move. “What’s wrong?” he called.

  I was right on his heels. “Are you okay?” I asked.

  “I got a fish!” Oliver squealed. “I got a fish!”

  Damion reached Oliver. With his large hands covering Oliver’s on the pole, he helped him reel it in. I watched the scene of father and son. My heart swelled. I could watch the two of them all day. It was sweet and endearing and made me want to hug them both. I could feel tears burning my eyes. I blinked several times, refusing to get sappy over something so silly.

  When Damion managed to pull it from the water, he quickly pulled the hook out and showed Oliver how to hold the fish. Oliver’s face was one of pure elation. The kid looked like he could walk on water.

  “Look, Alex!” he shouted. “I caught a fish!”

  I smiled. “You caught a fish! Congratulations. Let me take a picture.” I reached for my phone.